Abduction (8 page)

She laughed
again, shaking her head. “We’re making headway.”

He instantly
sobered. “Don’t count on it. I’m not blind, but I’m not stupid, either.”

The smile
disappeared. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m
not oblivious to a pretty woman, but I don’t let any woman lead me around by
the nose. You may be attractive, but I’m not going to get all gooey-eyed over
you just because you flash that smile and bat those eyelashes.”

Now she was
insulted. “Excuse me, but I don’t bat my eyelashes, and you can keep your
backhanded compliment.”

He pulled the car into the department parking lot
and turned off the engine. “I wasn’t trying to compliment you. I simply
answered your question.”

She glared at
him as she shoved open her door. “Remind me not to ask you what you think
anymore. It’s obviously a one-way trip down a worthless road.” She stepped out
of the car, slammed the door, and started to stalk off.

Then she
whirled around, leaned down, and glared at him through the open window. “Your
father was right about you!”

Zoe saw the
color drain quickly from his face, his eyes dark and bleak with something far
deeper than pain. She immediately wanted to take back every word but couldn’t.
It was too late. She had hit him hard. He wouldn’t forget or forgive easily. And
because she couldn’t stand knowing that she had put that look on his face, she
spun around and ran to her car.

chapter
6

Wednesday, April 12

J
J gripped the steering wheel, desperately wanting
to snap it in half, his knuckles white with the need. His mind hot with the
rage. His heart heavy with the pain. Her words had ripped through him like a
serrated knife, cutting, slicing, ripping, tearing at his soul.

How did she
know those words could reduce him to a hulking mass of insecurity and self-doubt?
How could she know? She had claws and wasn’t afraid to use them. Probably took
delight in using them, slicing her way through men with a certain personal
pleasure.

He loosened
his grip on the steering wheel. Well, if she thought she was going to put JJ
Johnson under her slim little feet, she had another thing coming.

JJ climbed out
of the car, the only hint of his anger revealed by a slammed door.

Matt eyed him
cautiously as he barged into his office and dropped into his chair. “Offhand,
I’d say it didn’t go well.”

“Karen Matthews and her friend heard the word
psychic
and kicked us out of the house. Starting going on about the devil and
then
showed us the door.” He looked up at the clock. It was almost four. “Where’s
Gerry and Wayne?”

“Gerry called
in—he’s still talking to the Matthews’ neighbors—and Wayne went over to talk to
that adoption attorney who said he might have some information for us.”

JJ rubbed his
hands over his face, trying to set aside lingering feelings left by Zoe’s
attack in order to concentrate on the work ahead. “What about the lab? Anything
on the fingerprints?”

Matt nodded,
picking up a file and tossing it across the desk to JJ. “Mr. Matthews, Mrs.
Matthews, and a few smudged ones that don’t match either the mother or the
father but aren’t clear enough to identify.”

JJ flipped open the report and stared at it. “So
someone else
was
there.” He picked up his pen and rolled it through his
fingers
while thoughts tumbled
through his head. “I still can’t shake the feeling
that they did something with that baby. Maybe they
had help.”

“Oh, before I forget.” Matt stood up, dug into his
back pocket, and pulled out a small envelope. He tossed it down in front of JJ.
“My sister wanted me to let you know that you’re invited to Amanda’s birthday
party on the twenty-ninth.”

JJ picked up
the envelope and ripped it open. “Is it time for that child to have another
birthday?”

“It’s been a
year, pal.”

“How old is
she this year?”

“Eleven.”

JJ shook his
head as he tossed the birthday invitation onto the desk. “Heavens. . .I’m
getting old.”

Matt tilted
his head, studying JJ carefully. “Nah, not much gray at all.”

JJ glared.
“Funny.”

“I thought
so.”

“Tell me
you-know-who won’t be there.”

“Pete? He
probably will. He usually makes it to all the family events.”

JJ growled low
in his throat then coughed. “I feel the flu coming on.”

Matt laughed.
“He is a pain, isn’t he?”

“I like most
of your family. But your cousin is a jerk.”

Matt threw up
his hands. “I’m not saying a word.”

JJ took a deep
breath and picked up the Matthews file from his desk. He stared at it. “Matt,
get together with Gerry. Tear the Matthews’ lives apart. I want to know
everything from parking tickets to anti-war protests. See if there’s anything I
can hang my gut instinct on.”

#

When Ted
Matthews pulled into the driveway, he was surprised to find himself facing an
army of reporters overrunning his front yard.

“Mr. Matthews! Do you have anything to say to the
kidnapper?”

Ted gripped
his briefcase. “Yes. Return my daughter.”

“Mr. Matthews!
What do you think of the way the police are handling this?”

He stopped at the steps and turned around. “I
think it’s shameful the way they refuse to go look for the kidnapper. They have
no leads, so they place the blame on the easiest targets—my wife and me!”

“Mr. Matthews!
Will you sue the department for mishandling this case?”

“I have no
idea. It depends on whether they get their act together and find the
kidnapper.”

“Mr. Matthews,
do you think your daughter was taken by the same man who took Gina Sarentino?”

“I have no idea. I’m not a detective. I only know
that my daugh
ter,” he choked back a sob, “my precious Jessica, has been
taken, and we want her back. This is difficult. . . . It’s pushing my wife to
the edge.” He threw up his hands. “Please excuse me.”

If he thought
he’d find peace in the house, he was wrong. He set down his briefcase just
inside the door. “Karen?”

“In here,” he
heard her call out. He stepped into the kitchen to find her sitting at the
table with another reporter.

The reporter
stood up and reached out to shake his hand. “Lorraine Wallace.”

“Ted
Matthews.” He draped his suit coat over a chair, pulled it out, and sat down.
“Why is the press here?” he asked.

“Because I
called them,” she replied, her voice trembling. “A psychic was here today with that
detective. While they’re busy trying to pin this on us, the real kidnapper is
getting away with our daughter. If the police won’t help, we’ll have to find
her ourselves.”

“I just wished
you had discussed this with me, Karen. None of this is good for you. You know
you haven’t been all that strong since Jess was born.”

Karen
swallowed hard, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I’m fine. Really.”

The reporter
turned to Ted. “How are you taking this?”

“I’m numb. I
just can’t believe someone would do this. What kind of world do we live in when
a baby isn’t even safe in her own crib? In her own home?” He sighed heavily and
then looked over at Karen, squeezing her hand in a show of comfort. “We were
just so happy when Jessica was born. She’s the light of our lives.”

The reporter
jotted something down, closed the notebook, turned off her recorder, and rose
to her feet. Tomorrow he would read in some paper that he was numb and that
Jessica was the light of his life.

He sat while
Karen escorted the woman out. He assumed she would return with another reporter
and the scenario would begin again, so he was a little surprised when she
returned alone. She brushed her fingers through his hair and then kissed his
cheek.

“I hope you
don’t mind. I probably should have called you first, but I felt so helpless. I
had to do something.”

Ted shook his
head as he pulled her down in his lap. “You need to check with me on things
like this. You know how I worry about
you
and all this stress. Have you been taking your pills?” He watched
her
shift her eyes away from him and knew the answer. “You know you need them,
honey.” He pushed her up off his lap. “Please go take your pills now. Before
you forget again.”

Silently, she
nodded and headed for the bathroom.

“Karen?”

She stopped and
looked at him, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.

“I have to ask
you. Are you sure you didn’t hurt Jess and just blocked it out? Like you killed
the kitten?”

chapter
7

Thursday, April 13

F
inally,
on Thursday morning—three long days after Jessica Matthews disappeared from her
crib—JJ arrived at the station to find good news waiting for him in his office.

“We have a
lead!” Matt jumped to his feet as the words exploded from his lips.

“On which
case?” JJ asked quickly. He set down his coffee on the edge of the desk and
slipped out of his jacket.

“Matthews.”

“You’re
kidding! Talk to me.” JJ pulled out his chair and sat down. He picked up his
coffee and peeled off the lid.

“Gerry was
interviewing neighbors. He missed one. Across the street. Lady by the name of.
. .” Matt looked down at his notepad. “Ethel Marsh. Anyway, she was away. Now
she’s back. Gerry talked to her, and it seems Mrs. Matthews neglected to
mention the fact that up until just before the baby disappeared, she had a woman
coming in twice a week. Cleaning, babysitting, errands—that sort of thing. And
the woman had a key to the Matthews’ house.”

JJ rocked back in his chair. “Did anyone contact
Karen Matthews?”

“Not yet. Gerry just called five, maybe ten minutes
ago. He is on
his way.”

JJ picked up the phone. “Let’s find out about this
cleaning woman.”

Karen Matthews
answered the phone on the third ring. “Mrs. Matthews? Detective Johnson. Did
you have a housekeeper or cleaning woman coming in a couple times a week? One
that you might have forgotten to mention to us?”

There was a
slight pause before Karen answered. “Oh. You mean Alice Denton? Why is that
important?”

JJ picked up a
pencil and rolled it between his fingers, trying to keep his frustration from
breaking loose. “Did she have a key to your house? Was she familiar with your
routine? With the baby?”

“Oh. She quit
working for us before Jessica disappeared. I just didn’t think. . .”

JJ snapped the
pencil between his fingers and tossed the pieces down angrily. “You didn’t think?
The woman had a key to your house and you didn’t think?”

“She gave the
key back!” Karen said abruptly. “And I can’t believe Alice would have taken
Jessica! She has children of her own to worry about!”

Just then, Gerry opened the door and stepped in.
Seeing JJ on the phone, he quietly shut the door behind him and grabbed a
chair.

“Just give me
the woman’s name and address, Mrs. Matthews.”

JJ snatched a
piece of broken pencil, realized what he’d done, and tossed it to the floor.
Then he reached for the pen Matt set in front of him.

When he finished writing down the information, he
pushed the pad toward Matt. Matt picked it up and, with Gerry leaning over his
shoulder, read what JJ had written. Immediately Gerry
took the pad and
went over to the computer terminal in the cor
ner
and began typing away.

“If you think
of anyone else, Mrs. Matthews, I’d appreciate you letting us know.” He slammed
the receiver down.
“I didn’t think,”
he snarled in a high-pitched voice,
mocking Karen Matthews. “No kidding.”

Gerry looked
around in his chair. “There is no Alice Denton at this address. The house is
owned by a Mr. Harold Harrison.”

JJ stood up
and grabbed his jacket. “Let’s get over to that house. We need to talk to this
Alice Denton woman.”

#

The house was a small rambler in an older section
of town. The neighborhood was still neat and clean, the border between lower
middle class and middle class. No built-in swimming pools in this neighborhood,
though you might find a few aboveground K-mart specials.

The house, like
most of its neighbors, had a postage-stamp front yard with neatly trimmed
shrubs that had probably been planted back in the sixties. No fancy berms and
dusty miller here. Daffodils and tulips were the flower of choice.

JJ climbed out
of the car and looked around. A woman knelt in a flower bed next door, pulling
weeds. He couldn’t tell her age. Her hair and face were buried under a big
straw hat.

When the car
door slammed, she looked up, shielding her eyes from the morning sun with her
hands. “No one lives there,” she yelled out, slowly standing to her feet.

JJ walked
across her lawn. “Did someone live there up until recently?”

Up close, he
could see that she was in her late fifties—maybe early sixties—with clear green
eyes and a soft, clear skin. She took care of herself and would make no
apologies for it.

“Mary Deere.
Moved last Monday.”

The day
Jessica Matthews disappeared. Maybe he’d been wrong about the parents after
all.

JJ pulled out
his badge. “Detective Johnson. Do you have any idea where she moved to?”